Night Terrors (23 page)

My stomach lurches. ‘I’ll do my best.’ She turns to walk across the road but I reach out and touch her, silently requesting that she wait. ‘When you do fall asleep, go to the forest, Ashley. Some of the trees have marks. Follow the marks until you reach a clearing with a fire pit. We’ll come and find you there.’ I’ll just have to pray that the two goons have already left but, even with the threat of their presence, the forest will be safer than the town. Right now, it’s all we’ve got.

We wait in the car. It seems like an eternity but it’s probably no more than a few minutes from the moment Ashley replaces the receiver until the first police car shows up, quickly followed by an ambulance. By this point, she can barely stand. She points backwards and murmurs something before being bundled into the back of the ambulance. The police exchange looks and head off almost as fast as they arrived.

‘She’s given them the address of the kidnappers.’

‘They’ve probably already gone.’

‘Probably. But the police might be able to pull some fingerprints. It doesn’t mean the bastards won’t get caught.’

With any luck, Carter will be indicted along with the rest of them. I press my lips together and try to keep hold of my emotions. ‘Will Ashley be alright? Will she be safe?’

‘Probably.’

Probably is not good enough for me. ‘I told her go to the forest. You need to make sure she stays there, well out of the Department’s path.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Kill two birds with one stone.’

‘Zoe…’

‘We had a deal. I stayed at the hotel when you went to get Ashley so you don’t get in my way when I apparate.’

‘Tell me what you’re planning.’

I shrug. ‘I’m damned if I know. I’m making this up as I go along.’

But my eavesdropping proved one thing: I can stop the Badlands. I just need to be brave enough.

***

We don’t go back to the hotel; instead, Dante parks round the corner from the main Manchester police station. Even at this hour there’s a steady stream of traffic entering and exiting the building. It’s generally either drunks or tired-looking police officers.

‘It shouldn’t be this busy even in a city like this,’ Rawlins mutters.

‘If I was afraid of sleeping because I knew I’d be attacked in my dreams, I might spend the night getting pissed as a fart, too,’ I mutter.

She throws a quick look in my direction. ‘I’ll keep an eye out.’

‘Aren’t you tired?’

‘I’ll sleep later. You two do what you need to.’

I nod and close my eyes. At least that way I don’t have to deal with Dante’s worried frown any longer. He needs to sleep too; Ashley will be safer when he’s by her dream side.

It takes me a while, partly because of the uncomfortable car seat but more because of the fear I feel. Eventually, however, I fall asleep.

As I stride out through the town, it occurs to me that the reason I’m fighting a war on two fronts and getting absolutely nowhere is because there’s no general. There’s no head to cut off. The Badlands and the Department might well be two separate entities but neither have visible leaders so I’ve no idea where to strike. No wonder they achieve such success. Even in Powers’ ridiculous tank dream, there was a chain of command. We might rail against our bosses but someone has to be in charge; making decisions by committee simply doesn’t work. I frown and switch directions.

As soon as I round the next corner, I see Bron. He’s running a hand through his hair and looking dishevelled. When he shifts his weight, I see who he’s talking to and my heart drops. Dante was right: Kevin is gesticulating at him with great enthusiasm and considerable energy. After dropping me in it with the Department, Kevin is hardly on my list of people to be friendly towards. I can’t believe that Bron doesn’t feel the same way.

I march towards them, arms swinging. Kevin glances over Bron’s shoulder and sees me, then abruptly falls silent before spinning away.

‘What was that about?’ I snap.

‘He’s worried about Ashley.’

‘Is he now?’ I raise my eyebrows. Any plan I might have to tell Bron the good news about locating Ashley in the real world starts to fade away.

Bron sighs. ‘He’s not all bad.’

‘He worked for the Mayor!’

‘So did a lot of people.’

My eyes narrow. Is he trying to say something about Dante? ‘What does that mean?’

Bron’s brow furrows, a little line forming between his golden eyebrows. ‘Calm down, Zoe. Getting stressed isn’t going to help.’

Rather than cool me down, his words have the opposite effect. ‘Are you working with Kevin?’ I demand. ‘Feeding information to the Department as it suits you?’

He recoils. ‘Did you seriously just ask me that? After everything that’s happened, don’t you trust me?’ He looks upset. ‘If this is because of what I wrote on Somnolence…’

I’m confused. He tugs at his collar and looks away. ‘It was before I really knew you. I’m sorry. I was being an arse.’

For the life of me, I have no idea what he’s talking about. It’s probably just as well; I imagine it involved gossip, much like the rest of the town has been spreading, the sort that belongs in the rumour mill and nowhere else. ‘Bron, I just want to be sure that I can trust you. The Department is everywhere and into everything.’

The look on his face is such a mix of hurt, anger and genuine dismay that I realise I’ve made a terrible mistake. I wish I could take my words back. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just…’

He shakes his head and takes a step back. ‘I thought you were better than that, Zoe. Maybe Esme and Ashley are right about you.’

That stings. Once upon a time, I got along well with all of them. ‘Bron…’

It’s too late. He turns away from me, striding away stiffly. I wince.

‘Nice work, Zoe,’ I mutter to myself. ‘Way to lose one of the last people who’s actually on your side.’ I debate whether to go after him. Despite my weak accusations, I like Bron and I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s never given me any real cause to doubt him. I watch him march off and sigh. The trouble is that I’m on a clock; I’ll give him time to cool down and then look for him later. With a heavy heart, I head off to continue my search for Esme instead.

I find her in the daberhashery. She’s tidied up most of it, although the shelves are almost bare. She glances up when I enter but there’s little warmth in her expression. ‘I’m assuming by your entrance that you’ve still not managed to learn anything useful,’ she sniffs.

I don’t know her very well but I still long for the time when she was friendly towards me. I’m not used to be an object of tired disgust. ‘You’re talking about the dreamweaving.’

‘What else would I be referring to?’

I sigh. ‘I’m getting there, Esme.’

‘Not fast enough.’

‘We’ve found Ashley.’

Her head jerks up. ‘Is she alright?’

‘I think so. I hope so anyway. She’s in the forest. There’s a clearing towards the north side. Dante used to go there sometimes. It’s…’

‘I know where it is.’ She pushes past me, ready to bolt out of the door.

‘Wait. You know more about this place than anyone else.’

‘I have to get to Ashley.’

‘Dante’s with her. I just have a few questions.’ I look at her beseechingly. ‘Please?’

Esme shakes her head. ‘Why me?’ she mutters in exasperation. I don’t answer; she’s not expecting me to. She rolls her eyes. ‘Fine. What do you want?’

‘What do you know about the Department structure? You were here when the Mayor set it up. You must know how it works.’

‘Each zone has a different leader. We had the Mayor. There’s a Chancellor overseeing the Western European zone, some kind of First Minister in Australasia.’ She shrugs. ‘They’re all wankers. Who cares?’

I tug my earlobe. That doesn’t tally with what Dante told me. ‘Are you sure?’

‘What? You don’t believe me?’

I watch her carefully. We may not be friends but I know her well enough to tell that she’s not lying. Her eyes are too frank – and irritated – for that. ‘I’d heard differently, that’s all,’ I say. ‘Is there someone who oversees them all? Like an uber leader?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just a shopkeeper, remember?’ She looks round and her shoulders slump. ‘I’m not even that any more.’

Shit. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re always sorry.’ She sighs. ‘Look, there has to be someone in charge but I don’t know who it is.. Whoever they are, however, they’re obviously cleverer than any of us.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Because we don’t know who they are, of course.’

‘They don’t know who we are either.’

‘How do you know that for sure?’ I frown. It’s obvious. ‘Look,’ Esme continues. ‘You’re far better off asking Dante about all this. He’s going to know more than I do.’

I blink. ‘Why? Because he used to work for the Mayor?’

She looks at me as if I’m stupid. ‘Because until you showed up, he was the most powerful person in the Dreamlands. Not just in this zone but in every one of them.’

‘He’s the only tracker,’ I say slowly, mulling it over.

‘Exactly. Now, will you let me leave?’

I nod and step back. She strides out into the brightness of the town leaving me with nothing but my crazy thoughts.

***

I have one more stop to make. I’m not in the mood for messing around; I’ve spent days tiptoeing around like a furtive shadow and I’ve just about had enough. My bull-headed approach with Bron may not have worked but seeing Ashley and the state she’s in has banished any other feelings I had about being circumspect. Now I just want to bring these bastards down.

I march along the cobbled streets with my shoulders pulled back and my head held high. Although there are still very few people around, they all turn to watch me. I don’t pay them any attention. The Travellers don’t interest me, not right now.

I’d been expecting more than one guard on the Bubble. It’s no longer day time so it stands to reason that the Department would place more people on the main door – but there’s not a soul standing there. I assume that’s because they’re all out looking for Ashley but something’s niggling at me, like an itch that I can’t scratch. Something doesn’t add up and I can’t work out what it is. I’m worried that if I keep worrying about it, I’ll add two and two together and end up with three hundred and sixty-seven. Not for the first time, I wish I’d been born with the gift of logic.

I jog down the corridor. There are more darkened doors and my heart feels a little heavier with every one that I pass. I tell myself there’s no point in venturing inside and fighting off whatever’s there
mano a mano
. I need to be smarter than that.

2432, 5698. I double check the coordinates written on the side of the door. Last time, it was pristine white but it’s certainly not now. My hands start shaking at the thought of going inside again but I have to do it. I have to know. I close my eyes and place my hand on the door handle then I take a breath and go in.

People have recurring dreams more often than they think but they rarely remember them. It’s no surprise to me that when the door closes behind me and I’m confronted with a familiar hospital setting and the glow of a red light.

If I’d thought this was a sinister nightmare the last time around, it’s nothing compared to this time. There’s blood on the floor, trailing all the way down the  corridor. It’s not just a few drops, it’s not even a pool of blood, it’s a trail as if something heavy has been dragged along. Something heavy like a body. I shiver. No child should be dreaming of a place like this.

I’m tempted to leave right now. I already have the proof I need. This isn’t a playground with swings and happy cries. I force my legs to keep going though; I want to see more. If I can grab the dreamer in a moment of lucidity, even better.

My feet make a sucking noise as I tread carefully towards my goal. No matter how much I try to avoid it, I have to walk along the blood trail. For some reason, the marks of my footprints are more sickening than the blood itself. I go onto my toes but it’s no good. I end up fixing my eyes on a single point straight ahead. I know from past experience that I don’t want to look in any of the rooms to my left and right, not until I reach the one where the Sandman spoke to me.

I slide inside and look around. It’s the same as it was last time ‒ apart from the child strapped to the gurney.

With a quick glance behind to double-check that we’re alone, I spring over and start undoing the restraints. She stares at me with wide eyes.

‘He’s going to come back.’

I try to smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m here now. I’ll protect you.’

‘You can’t protect me against him.’

‘Yes, I can.’

She sits up while I move to her feet. ‘Are you a good person?’

I consider the question. ‘I try to be. That’s all we can do. We have to try.’

‘I’m not.’

I stop what I’m doing and look at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s why he comes here. It’s because I’ve been bad.’

Fucking hell. ‘No,’ I say, more sharply than I intend. ‘He’s a bad person. You’re not.’

‘How do you know?’

I smooth her hair. ‘Because I do.’ I smile. ‘You remember the park?’ She nods. ‘Can you take me there?’

‘He’ll be angry.’

‘He’s not going to come back here. I’m not going to let him.’

I finish undoing the straps round her ankles. She puts her arms round my neck. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I really am.’

‘Okay.’

There’s a flash and she’s no longer clinging onto me. I look up and see her on the swing. She raises a hand and waves. I wave back.

‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

I turn round and the smile on my face disappears. ‘Well, well, well. It’s the Sandman.’ Bingo. The fact that my suspicions have been confirmed doesn’t fill me with joy. When Lilith scoffed at my suggestion that he could help, I’d assumed it was because she’d thought he was a child but she was actually telling me everything I needed to know. He’s the one behind all this. It just took me a long time to figure it out.

The blue-haired boy doesn’t blink; his face is expressionless. ‘Weaver,’ he says.

‘This is all down to you. The black doors. The nightmares. The sleep paralysis.’